


Purple

by babyflavoredblood



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schizophrenia, Suicide Attempt, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyflavoredblood/pseuds/babyflavoredblood
Summary: The room was purpleRon hated purpleHis mother painted his room purple when he was six years oldBecause it was his favorite colorBut at 22, he didn't have a favorite colorHe wasn't really fond of colors in generalHe wasn't fond of a lot of thingsRacecarsDinosaursStrawberry MilkShag carpetingOverallsPurpleBecause they all reminded him of his childhoodAnd that was something he never wanted to be reminded of.
Kudos: 1





	Purple

**Author's Note:**

> Please read tags for content warnings!

The room was purple  
Ron hated purple  
His mother painted his room purple when he was six years old  
Because it was his favorite color  
But at 22, he didn't have a favorite color  
He wasn't really fond of colors in general  
He wasn't fond of a lot of things  
Racecars  
Dinosaurs   
Strawberry Milk  
Shag carpeting  
Overalls  
Purple  
Because they all reminded him of his childhood  
And that was something he never wanted to be reminded of.

Ron had to step outside because the house party he was at had purple laser lights in the living room  
For ambiance...or something   
He was sat on the concrete sidewalk, looking up at the stars.   
He didn't want these things to still effect him so much  
He wanted to be normal  
He wanted to not want to cry when he happened to see nascar on TV  
Or when he went to a house party that had purple lights  
He wanted to have a normal childhood  
But that was never an option for him.

“Hey,” it wasn't a voice he recognized.  
But they sat beside him on the curb regardless.  
He tried his best to smile  
“Hi.”  
“I'm Cameron.”  
The boy stuck his hand out, and Ron shook it reluctantly.  
“Ron.”  
Cameron smiled wide and nodded. He was was friendly and Ron wasn't sure if he liked it or not.  
“It's getting pretty crazy in there, I had to get some fresh air, the smoke gives me a headache.”  
Purple gave Ron a headache.  
“Me too,” he lied.  
“So, what brings you to this event? You know the host?”  
“I was dragged here, Josh is a friend of mine,” Ron replied.  
Cameron nodded.  
“Honestly, I don't know anyone here, I live around the corner and heard music so I checked it out.”  
Ron laughed under his breath.  
“You look too young to be at a house party.”  
Cameron shrugged.  
“Debatable. Kids are drinking and fucking at ten nowadays.”  
Ron was suddenly surrounded in purple, and wanted to go back inside, because this conversation went from black to purple in half a second and purple was loud, so loud.  
He shut his eyes hard and took a deep breath.  
“Are you okay?” Cameron asked.  
The screaming in his ears stopped, and all he could hear was their breathing. Ron opened his eyes. It was black. Quiet.  
“Yeah...thanks.”  
Ron wasn't sure he remembered the last time someone asked him that question, the last time someone cared.  
“I'm 18, by the way. So not old enough to drink, but old enough to be at a house party.”  
“I'm 22...at least that's what I'm told.”  
Cameron chuckled   
“Are you one of those hippies that doesn't trust any government documents, even their birth certificate?”  
“No...”  
Cameron nodded  
“You're kinda strange, Ron. I kinda like it.”  
Ron knew he was strange, no one had ever said it to his face, though.  
Except for the psychiatrist, who used a different term.  
“Thank you.”  
He sighed.  
“PTSD.”  
“What?” Cameron questioned  
Ron must've thought out loud again, he never meant to do that, but he did it a lot.  
“I didn't mean to say that, sorry.”  
Cameron smiled.  
“It's okay, Ron.”  
Cameron said Ron's name a lot. Ron wasn't sure if he liked it or not.  
Ron took a deep breath  
“I might like you.”  
Cameron smiled again  
“I like you, too, Ron.”

...

Ron woke up  
His room was white  
He didn't want his room to be white  
He stood up and closed the curtains  
His room was black now  
Ron walked to the bathroom, turned on the light  
The room was white, but the light made it yellow  
Ron made a mental note to buy light bulbs that weren't yellow  
He looked at himself in the mirror  
There was sharpie smeared on his neck, something that looked like numbers  
He tried to read it, but the mirror made it difficult  
Ron grabbed a wash cloth and wet it, beginning to rub at the ink.  
He saw there were more numbers on his hand, darker ones.   
He glared at his hand, having to twist it awkwardly to read the text.  
"Cam <3 (206) 742-4910”  
Ron sighed  
“Right.”  
He left the bathroom to find his phone, but remembered he forgot to pee.  
Ron peed, washed his hands, being careful to not remove the sharpie, and returned to finding his phone.   
His phone was where it always was in the morning, on his bedside table, plugged in to the charger.  
Ron sat down on his bed. He added “Cam” to his contacts. He typed a message, a simple “hi”, but didn't hit send. He locked his phone, and sat it back down on his bedside table. Ron glanced at his alarm clock.  
“Noon.”  
He went back to sleep.

...

At 2pm, Ron awoke to a knock at his front door.  
He grabbed a flannel shirt that was laying on his floor, and threw it on quickly. Ron approached the door carefully, taking a deep breath and opening it, slow.   
He rolled his eyes instantly.  
“Go away,” Ron said. His voice was hoarse and he hated the way it sounded coming from his mouth.  
“I can't.”  
Ron turned around, leaving the door open, defeated.  
Jamie. Jamie, it was always Jamie.  
Jamie walking in, Jamie shutting the door behind him.  
“How are...things?” Jamie talking.  
Ron sat down on his couch, and stared at his tv, black. He tried to pretend he was alone. He was alone.  
Jamie sitting on his coffee table.  
“You're purple now.” Jamie talking.  
“You're the purple one.”  
Jamie shrugged.  
“Why are you here?” Ron asked.  
“You stopped taking your medicine. You stopped seeing your psychiatrist.” Jamie frowning.  
“It was purple, he was purple.”  
“But now you're the purple one.”   
“I'm not purple.” Ron countered.  
“You look purple to me, Ron.”  
“You don't know purple, you're color blind.”  
“When's the last time purple was just a color?”  
Ron swallowed his spit.  
“I was six.”  
Jamie nodding “exactly. Now drain all your red so you can just be blue and call it a day.”  
Ron sighed, slit his wrists with his new razor and woke up in a hospital room the next morning.  
The room was white.  
Ron wanted to close the curtains but he was hooked up to too many machines that were making slow repetitive noises.  
Jamie was sitting at the end of his bed, and Josh was sitting in the chair to his right, asleep.  
Ron found his phone on the bedside table.  
He hit send.


End file.
